


To Be With You

by littlemaple



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff, Hugs, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-27 13:17:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20046670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemaple/pseuds/littlemaple
Summary: Dorian is surprised when, right after returning to Skyhold, the Inquisitor requests his presence. Even more when he hears what the Inquisitor actually wants.





	To Be With You

**Author's Note:**

> here i am, thinking about lavellan/dorian again  
this was supposed to be a ~300-word drabble but welp. also i used the first name i gave my lavellan - aymer - for the fic because i felt awkward using the last name.

Inquisitor Lavellan had returned from another trip to the Hinterlands — Dorian watched from his corner in the library. At the gates, people crowded around the small elf and his companions, agents of the Inquisition taking their mounts to the stables as the Inquisitor seemed to speak briefly to the people around him.

Dorian watched him with a soft smile. Aymer Lavellan was short for an elf, too young for his position and power, and too kind for his own good. Even from his window, Dorian could see he was leaning on his staff as he chatted with the curious people who had gathered around him, breathing heavily here and there. The journey had been long — they had left a couple weeks ago — and probably exhausting, with all the Red Templars looming about, the rifts still to be closed, and Aymer wanting to do it all himself.

Dorian shook his head. That elf… he was fascinating. They had been flirting for some time now — ever since Haven. Here and there, a joke, some teasing — mostly from Dorian, though it was clear Aymer enjoyed it, — a smirk, a brief, soft touch when the Inquisitor handed Dorian a book or document or cup of tea.

They had kissed, once. After coming back from Redcliff, after having met his father, Dorian and Aymer talked the night away, drinking — Dorian doing most of the drinking, really, and glancing at each other. Then, before leaving back to his quarters, Aymer walked to Dorian, held his collar, and kissed him. His face was all red — from the alcohol? Embarrassment? — and then he smiled, waved, and left.

The flirting had continued, whenever they had time to spare, but Aymer would blush more easily, looking away, then looking back quickly and smiling briefly. It was adorable. If it was anybody else, Dorian would rush it to a bedroom, get it over with, move on. But he couldn’t get himself to do it. He was… a little afraid. As much as he hated to admit, he… liked Aymer. He was afraid that, once they had sex, whatever it was they had would just… end. And Dorian didn’t want that.

He got so distracted with his own thoughts that the next time he looked out the window, the Inquisitor was gone, the courtyard still busy, but no longer hosting a crowd. He got back to his reading. That is, until someone handed him a note. He blinked at the servant, at the note being handed to him, and even more at its content. The Inquisitor was requesting his presence in his quarters.

Dorian had no idea what to think of it. He wondered what Lavellan could possibly want from him, the possibilities leaving him anxious and bubbly and afraid. Then, fashionably late, he went.

Aymer was checking some papers over his desk when Dorian got there. He had bathed, Dorian could see his hair (long, blond, silky) was wet still, and changed into his formal attire. Still, he didn’t have his shoes on, and his posture was all wrong, despite Josephine’s and Vivienne’s constant reminders of how the leader of the Inquisition should present himself, and Dorian smiled to himself.

“Inquisitor,” he said to announce his presence, and Aymer turned to him with a smile before he could say anything else.

“Dorian! You came.”

“Of course I came. Do you need me for something?”

Aymer nodded, approaching Dorian, then stopping, hesitating.

“I, uh… Can I…” he looked away, around the room, his right hand covering his left one, something Dorian understood he did whenever he was nervous, “… can I hug you?”

Dorian blinked at the question.

“Pardon me?”

“Uh. I know this is sudden, but… can I?”

Dorian blinked again, a witty remark at the tip of his tongue, but staying there when he looked at Aymer’s expectant eyes.

“…Sure,” he ended up saying.

Aymer walked to Dorian, smiled sweetly at him, then wrapped his arms around the mage. He was almost in his tiptoes, his head resting on the curve of Dorian’s neck. He didn’t move. He just stood there, embracing Dorian.

And Dorian blinked in surprise and confusion. He stood, embarrassed and uncertain, feeling Aymer’s chest moving with his breathing – feeling said breathing on his shoulder. He thought the hug would’ve ended after a few seconds, but as Aymer didn’t seem to be moving anytime soon, Dorian gave in to his confusion and touched Aymer’s shoulders, wanting to kindly end the embrace.

But Aymer hugged him tighter. “No,” he said, “just a little longer.” He sighed, “Please.”

Dorian couldn’t say no to that. So he blinked again, confused, wondering what this meant, and slowly, still unsurely, hugged Aymer back. The elf sighed loudly, pleased, the embrace still as tight.

Neither of them moved. Aymer nuzzled his head against Dorian’s neck, the embrace lighter, but refusing to move away.

Dorian had been hugged before, of course. But never like this. He had given hugs when meeting some people, or saying goodbye to others – his parents, mostly, when he was a child.

But they were always short. A couple of seconds, sometimes less. Just a greeting, a hello, a goodbye. He had never hugged someone just for the sake of hugging someone, to feel their warmth, be in their arms.

He had cuddled before, too. After sex, a few times, but never for too long. With strangers, without it meaning anything.

This, though… this was different.

“Will you tell me what this is about?” Dorian asked after some time had passed.

“There’s too many Red Templars out there,” Aymer said quietly, “I almost died.”

The words rang loud in Dorian’s ears, and he quickly pushed Aymer away, holding him by his shoulders, looking deep at his confused blue eyes before scanning him for wounds.

“Are you okay? What happened?”

Aymer shook his head, smiling.

“I’m fine now. Solas healed me. Cassandra scolded me for being reckless, Varric scolded her for scolding me when I had a sword in my stomach, then—”

“You had a _what where?!_”

“It sounds worse than it was, really,” Aymer was quick to add, “it didn’t hit anything important. But I was bleeding a lot. Anyway, I… All I could think of was that, well, we never… talked about that kiss,” he looked down, unsure, “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to, or… either way… I was really afraid to die without… well, seeing you again.”

Dorian could only stare.

Aymer looked around, unsure. “Speechless?” he asked.

“It seems you have that effect on me,” Dorian chuckled, shaking his head, “Now… before we discuss that kiss… can I give you another one first?”

Aymer blinked at him. Then smiled. “Yes.”

Dorian caressed Aymer’s cheek with his thumb for a moment, looking at his eyes, big, blue, curious, expectant, and then, finally, giving in to the bubbliness inside him, kissed him, pulling him close, embracing him.

He decided he quite liked it, embracing Aymer.


End file.
